


not by blood; by choice

by perhapssoon



Category: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Cartoon 2018)
Genre: Family, Family Drama, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Team as Family, donnie is evil, evil!donnie, splinter's trying his best ok, the bros are rlly confused
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 19:40:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17351366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perhapssoon/pseuds/perhapssoon
Summary: Splinter finds the turtles in Draxum's lab. There are four of them. He makes it out with three.Orthe AU where Donnie works for Baron Draxum





	1. adoption

**Author's Note:**

> hm we'll see how far i get with this fic

Baron Draxum’s lab is silent, yet brightly lit, punctuated occasionally by scuffling noises and screeches from the animals in their cages. Splinter has been here countless times before, so navigating through the various openings of the lab is proven to be easy to the rat. He only means to pick up the scroll he had left here last week, but the sounds of slight whimpering distract him.

There are four of them, tags around their tiny shells to distinguish them from each other. And Splinter, possessing the big heart he does, wants to adopt them all immediately. But Draxum had made it clear, especially after the incident involving humans and those damn radioactive experiments.  _I don’t want to see you in here ever again._

But how could he  _not_  come back? The place held too many memories of better days – days where he didn’t have to worry about his best friend trying to kill people, days where he didn’t have to utilize any sort of weapon against anyone, days where he didn’t have to spend his time in solitary underground. It hurt, to think that so much had changed over a span of a week.

Before he could stop himself, he’s kneeling in front of the cage that held the four mutated baby turtles. “Hello there little ones,” he murmurs, a smile spreading across his snout as he watches the small turtles tumble over each other in order to get closer to them. Upon thorough inspection, the four of them look beat up and terrified, though their curiosity as children still held through to allow them to investigate this strange creature talking to them.

He’s slightly disgusted at Draxum’s goal here. Taking babies – either turtles or humans, it didn’t matter – and then mutating them to never be able to fit in with society every again was horrifying. He pokes a finger through the bars of the cage and the kids scramble over to it, their eyes wide. The biggest one of the four of them, the snapper with a red tag wrapped around him, takes hold of Splinter’s finger and tugs slightly. Splinter chuckles, watching the kid wrestle with his finger. The kids need names, and since Draxum most likely will never give them anything other than species names and serial numbers, he’s the only one for the job.

His mind flashes back to the book he had read a few years earlier, about the Renaissance. The names in there would do.

“I think I’ll call you Raphael,” he tells the red one, who, as if satisfied by his name, lets go of Splinter’s finger and the rat withdraws it from the cage. The children cluster along the end of the cage, staring at him with big pleading eyes and his heart breaks for them.

The box turtle with the orange tag whimpers, the noise sounding strangely human for a turtle, and reaches his thin arms through the bars. The blue one, a turtle Splinter recognizes as a red eared slider, gently puts his arms around the orange one and the latter sighs and withdraws his arms. Splinter racks his brain for more names. What was that? “Michelangelo,” he says, his voice amplified by the acoustics in the lab. “You will be Michelangelo.” he gestures to the orange turtle, who perks up a little at being given a name. “And you,” he points to the blue turtle, who puff his tiny chest up at being recognized, “will be called Leonardo.”

The newly deemed Leonardo nods excitedly and reaches into the darker part of the cage to pull their fourth cellmate into the light. Splinter can see that a thin purple tag is wound around their arm instead of their shell, the purpose of it showing only seconds later – the fourth child is a soft-shell turtle. He would smile in reassurance at the fourth child, his actions immediately giving off a shy vibe – at least, until Splinter can see the scowl and judging glare. “Him name!” Leonardo insists, pushing the visibly annoyed child to the front, the other turtles parting to make way.

Splinter thinks for a moment, the name flashing through his brain the same time he says it. “Your name shall be Donatello.”

Donatello looks less annoyed now, but he’s trying to keep up the facade, and Splinter can see he is maturer than the others here.

“Are you brothers?” He directs this at Raphael, and the red-tagged turtle nods.

“We are brothers. ’M the oldest, then it’s, uh,” he thinks for a moment, trying to remember the newly given names. “Donate'o ‘n then Leonardo and then,” he hesitates again, “Michel'ngelo.”

Splinter nods, feeling a wave of pride wash through his chest. “Here, my children.” He reaches out, taking hold of the cell bars. “Stand back a little.”

Raphael is the first to respond, backing up, tugging his brothers with them. “Thank you, Red,” he says, already deciding that 'Raphael’ is too long to say. All of their names are too long, he realizes, but he can’t change that now. Red seems to respond to it anyway, beaming widely and flashing Splinter his red tag.

Now focusing on the task at hand, Splinter grips the cell bars, grinning slightly when he realizes how easy this will be. A simple tug uproots the entirety of the bars and the four turtles are left blinking at the sudden prospect of freedom.

Blue is the first to react, leaping onto Splinter’s leg, the others following soon after, even Purple. He’s about to take them and leave when a familiar voice rumbles through the lab.

“I thought I told you to never come back.”

Splinter turns, and narrows his eyes at the newcomer. “Draxum.”

“Hamato.” Draxum doesn’t look amused, his eyes flicking to the turtles now cowering behind Splinter and then the ruined cage. “I told you to leave, yet you come in here, break my holding cell, and then try to steal my property?”

“Your 'holding cell’ is surprisingly easy to break,” Splinter accuses, causing the alchemist to blanch at the sharp tone. “You must try better than that if you are going to hold  _children_  in your lab like this.”

Draxum growls. “Those are my experiments. Therefore, you have no right to take them.”

“I will take them,” Splinter says stubbornly. “They cannot live here.”

“Give me one, at least,” Draxum says, crossing his arms. “I don’t have time to watch four at once anyway so I will make a deal with you. Give me one and you can have the rest.”

“They are brothers,” Splinter argues, “you cannot separate them from each other now, especially at such a young age.”

Draxum snaps his fingers and Huginn and Muninn come into the room. “I will only ask once.”

“I’ll go.” The clarity in those two words is to make everyone in the room hesitate. Splinter turns to see Purple standing as straight as he can, eyes giving Draxum such a death stare that the rat is surprised the yokai alchemist hasn’t dropped dead yet. “I can go.”

“Nooo Donate'o!” Red lunges at him, hugging him fiercely. “You can’t go!”

“He’s gonna kill us,” Purple insists, his words strangely developed way more than a child’s should. “Let me go.”

Red frowns but lets go. “Promise me you will come back.”

Purple smiles slightly, the first time Splinter has seen him express any kind of caring emotion. “I will.”

And Splinter watches as this child, barely even four, cross the room alone to stand at Draxum’s side. Draxum nods in approval. “The purple one is smart,” he says as he moves aside, allowing Splinter to leave. “Never come back here again,” he adds as Splinter hurries out the door, “or next time I will be forced to kill you. No mercy.”

The image of Purple standing at Draxum’s side is the last Splinter is sure he’ll ever see as he flees the hidden city, back to his home in the sewers. 


	2. encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The turtles meet Galois

TEN YEARS LATER

The crime alarms are what jerk Leonardo Hamato out of bed. It isn’t the most elegant way to wake up, but it’s effective. Leo groans as he glances at the half-broken clock on his bedside stand. It’s 3am and they  _already_  have another chaos-starter?

He stumbles out into the hallway, bumping into Raph along the way. “Oh hey Raph,” he grins. “What’s the deal?”

“Baron Draxum is attacking the city with those mosquitoes again, but they aren’t full of that ooze,” Raph says distractedly as he jogs down the hallway to the opening of the sewers where Mikey is waiting for them.

“Yeah!” The youngest Hamato brother agrees, waving his arms as the three of them take off into the sewers. “So Raph and I asked Dad about it, and he said it could be a distraction for something worse so now here we are!”

“Ugh, it’s too early for this,” Leo mumbles as they scramble up the sewer ladders. “We could sleep in a bit more and–”

He’s cut short by screaming and fire. Raph mutters a curse word that Leo is pretty sure even Dad won’t like.

“We gotta move fast. Help the civilians and find and shut down the source,” he orders and he and Mikey both hurry into the crowd, leaving Leo to deal with the situation.

He wants to help civilians, really he does, but there’s no point in that is more people are going to get hurt anyway. He needs to find the cause of this.

A quick glance to the rooftops is all he needs. A sole figure is standing there, a scarf draped across their shoulders, their head covered by a helm covered in reflective lenses, which are aimed directly at Leo. He taps into his comms. “Uh, guys? I think I found the source.”

“Already?” Raph responds. “We’ll be there immediately.”

—

When Raph and Mikey finally make their way over to Leo, most of the crowd has emptied out, seeking a safer place.

“Where’s the source?” Raph asks, turning in a full circle but finding nothing.

The figure had disappeared from the rooftop, but Leo points towards it anyway. “They were up there,” he says.

Raph grunts. “Alright. Hang on.” He grabs Mikey, who retreats into his shell just in time for Raph to chuck his youngest brother upwards. Mikey comes out of his shell at the last instant, grabbing onto the roof edge and hauling himself up.

“That was awesome!” he cries, his voice echoing through the empty square, fire crackling just loud enough to muffle his voice slightly. Raph grins.

“Leo, you’re next.”

“Oh no no no no,” Leo says quickly, backing away. “You are  _not_  throwing me up there.”

“Whatchu gonna do?” Raph crosses his arms in disbelief. “Fly?”

“C'mon Leo!” Mikey encourages from the rooftop. “Just let him throw you! It’s so much faster than climbing!”

“Hey I can’t do that cool trick with my shell,” Leo protests, “so how is that going to work?”

“Like this.” Without warning, Raph grabs his brother around the waist and uses the momentum to fling his brother towards Mikey, who stretches out his arms and catches Leo before he can hit the ground.

“Hey!” Leo shakes his head to recover from the sudden jolt of adrenaline. “Don’t do that, Raph,  _jesus_.”

“That was cool!” Mikey shouts happily, still holding Leo. “Raph was like  _whoosh_  and you were like  _whoa_  and I was like–”

“Yeah I get it,” Leo says huffily. “Can you put me down now?”

“Aw, you’re just upset that Raph tossed you up here,” Mikey pouts, but he lets Leo fall unceremoniously onto the rooftop, right as Raph clambers up to meet them.

“‘Kay, so, we need to find this guy and make him….” Raph’s voice trails off as he stares past Mikey and Leo, the others turning around to see the figure standing right in front of them. “Oh my god.”

Upon closer look, Leo can see that this person, whoever they are, is definitely not human. The hands, although covered in black gloves, are shaped the same way as Leo himself and the rest of his brothers’ hands. Those same hands, one of which now jabbing a bo staff directly at Leo’s face.

The blue-clad turtle leaps back just in time. “Whoa there, you’re gonna take an eye out with that thing, man!”

The figure laughs, the voice sounding scratchy and inhuman. “That’s the point.”

“Okay, look pal,” Raph grins, showing all of his teeth at the enemy. “I don’t know why you’re here, or what you hope to gain, but you ain’t gonna mess up Manhattan any more than you already did.”

“Baron Draxum has plans to change the world for the better,” the figure replies, pushing their hood back to reveal eyes covered by goggles, one red and one blue lens reflecting the the fires around them. The voice changer hooked around their neck was linked to a mask covering the lower half of their face, distorting their voice beyond recognition. “And you three are a threat to these plans. So the only way for him to succeed is for you to fail. And I, Galois, will be glad to bring about that failure.”

There’s a  _shink_  sound and the bo staff suddenly sprouts something long and thin. A high-pitched whine emits from it and Raph knows enough about machines to realize this is bad. Very bad.

“Get out of the way!” he shouts, and the three scatter as Galois aims his staff at very spot they were standing and fires, a bolt of energy arcing through the air and cracking the rooftop.

“You are fast,” Galois murmurs, voice lowered either by disappointment of thoughtfulness, Raph doesn’t know. And he doesn’t wait to find out.

Neither, he realizes, is Leo. “Our turn.” His brother’s voice is surprisingly grim and when he meets Raph’s eyes, the older can see the determination there. It burns there like the fires currently destroying Manhattan, and it’s what convinces Raph to make a decision.

“Take him on three?”

Leo grins, smirks, and gestures to Mikey, who nods eagerly. “One.”

“Two.”

“Three!” On the last word, he slams his foot down, launching himself forward, barely aware of his brothers leaping beside him.

There’s a clash of metal on metal as Leo slices downward with his ōdachi, Mikey lashing out with his kusari-fundo at the same time.

Galois sidesteps Leo’s swing, using the end of their staff to knock the ōdachi out of his hands and grabs the chain of Mikey’s kusari-fundo, yanking it back so the youngest turtle flies harmlessly over their head. Raph growls and lunges at Galois, his fist punching the villain’s side with a sickening crack as the armor protecting his opponent cracks from the force of the blow.

Galois flies backwards, a sharp flash of metal suddenly appearing at the tip of the staff, and they flip it around, jabbing the point into the rooftop like a spear, skidding from the force of the blow. “Not bad,” they chuckle, the words crackling and sparking like a snapped plug. “Not bad…”

Raph feels his heart sink as Galois stands, wobbling slightly, but otherwise uninjured from an attack that would’ve shattered the bones of any regular human with poorly built armor. “…but you’re going have to do a lot better than that.”

There’s another  _shink_  sound and the knife point snaps back into the staff, and Galois spins the weapon once, the pole shrinking into a baton, long and thin and sparking with electricity. There’s a beeping noise, and Raph has heard it before in the back of his mind, and it jolts his limbs full of adrenaline. “Move, move, move!”

The beeps turn into a high-pitched whine, similar to the first attack, and Galois points the tip of the baton towards the brothers. Raph manages to tackle Leo, who takes Mikey down with him as a blast of electricity spits over their heads.

Leo shouts a curse word and scrambles to get out from underneath Raph, the three rolling away as another jolt crackles through the air, striking the place he had been only seconds before. The air is filled with burning smoke, stinging Leo’s eyes as he barely manages to dodge the next blast. The part of the roof in front of them is blasted to smithereens, fragments of plaster and wood thrown into the sky. He can see directly into the room in front of him for a moment, a couch, a smashed TV, and a few other furnishings and he’s briefly glad that the police managed to evacuate people while they were confronting Galois before he’s hit in the arm with a jolt of lightning.

“Gah!” Leo shouts, and Raph whips around to see Leo’s ōdachi flying out his hands once more, and Galois takes their chance. In one fluid motion, they snap the baton back into a staff and use it to slam the middle brother into the rooftop, cracking the plaster around him like a spiderweb.

“I would advise you to stay still. This next part is going to hurt,” the villain warns him as a humming sound comes the inside of his staff.

Leo flinches and closes his eyes, waiting for the final blow to come.

But it never does.

Mikey wraps the chain of his kusari-fundo around Galois’ wrist and pulls, keeping the villain from landing the final hit on Leo. It’s enough of a distraction for Leo to get moving again, but now Mikey is being targeted.

The youngest Hamato has better luck fighting Galois than Leo did. The kusari-fundo apparently isn’t a weapon the villain knows how to counteract as well as an ōdachi, and Mikey scores a direct hit on Galois, sending the other flying back as the chain wraps around their knees. Once satisfied with his handiwork, Mikey sends Galois swinging around towards the oldest brother. Acting quickly, Raph raises one of his tonfā and rushes behind Galois, slamming the villain to the ground and stomping on the hand clutching the bo staff. A hiss of pain comes from the fallen opponent and they let go of the staff, despite their best efforts not to. Leo rushes over and snatches up the weapon.

“Okay, you work for Baron Draxum, huh?” Leo spins the staff thoughtfully. “Shoulda known he was involved.”

Galois struggles against Raph’s grip, cracked goggles flashing, but the snapper turtle just presses down tighter and the villain stops moving, lest he get choked to death. “You are making a mistake,” they rasp, their voice changer evidently broken from the brief scuffle. The pitch raises to a high squeal in the middle of the sentence and the turtles wince from the noise. “Draxum will not stop until he succeeds with his plans.”

“Well, we’ll try out damned hardest to stop him,” Raph says, staring directly into the reflective goggles, trying to make out their opponent’s eyes through the lens.

Galois laughs, the sound cracking like the barrel of a gun. “I’ll look forward to it.”

There’s a slight beeping noise and the bo staff jerks in Leo’s hand, shrinking to a foot-long pole. It starts to vibrate wildly, creating enough friction for Leo to drop it with a shout of pain, and jumps into Galois’ hand.

Almost too quickly for Raph to comprehend, the bo staff lengthens again and Galois suddenly standing, swinging it at him like a baseball bat, sending him over the chimney to the next rooftop. They do the same to Leo, but hesitates at Mikey, bo staff wavering slightly. The youngest brother stares up at the villain defiantly. “We’ll defeat you, Galois!” he says, his voice an octave higher due to fear, hands frozen around the shaft of the kusari-fundo, “You and Draxum both!”

At that, Galois loses their moment’s hesitation and with a mighty thud that makes both Raph and Leo wince, Mikey lands next to them on the other rooftop. There’s silence then, except for the crackling fires around them, as Galois stares at them across the gap, but turns away. The scarf is the last thing the brothers see, flicking over the edge of the roof and slipping away, as if Galois hadn’t been there at all.


End file.
